


The Fallen Angel Is My Favourite Position

by ReturnFrom_86



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pole-Dancing, crack!fic, past relationship with Lisa mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1217875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReturnFrom_86/pseuds/ReturnFrom_86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After surviving a car accident, Dean Winchester needs a way to keep healthy. His brother, for some reason, seems to think pole dancing would be perfect for him. After meeting Castiel, his pole dancing teacher, maybe things won't be so bad for Dean after all...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Explicit for language and for explicit content in later chapters.
> 
> Comments as ever are appreciated.

Dean had died. For 2 and a half minutes. Sam slumped against the puke green hospital wall and slid to the ground, long legs twisted together beneath him. The doctor continued without a hesitation in his nasal tone, describing how they’d managed to revive Dean with minimal oxygen loss to the brain, and they’d stemmed the internal hemorrhaging. Sam was willing to bet that if he looked up at the doctor, the man would still be staring up at the space of air where his head had been when he’d been standing. But he couldn’t move his head from its bowed position. His brother had died. _Dean had died. Ok only for 2 and a half minutes, but he’d been gone._ Sam’s head filled with dense fog, but a single thought struggled to clear itself. _When Dean comes around, I’m gonna kill him._

* * *

The tubes sticking into him were annoying and painful, and the strong smell of disinfectant stung his lungs at every breath, but Dean was calm. His stay in the hospital had uncovered a new layer within himself, one which pushed him to better himself. A deep survival instinct which burned away the foolish, wasteful actions of his past. He’d let Sam know his intentions to better himself when he’d first woken up in a drug addled haze which he could hardly remember, although he did recall asking his brother for “salad recipes that aren’t shit”. Dean itched to get out of the hospital and put his new enlightenment to the test.

His eyes lit up when his brother walked into the room with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a duffle bag of clothes in the other and settled into the chair by Dean’s bed. Sam smiled tiredly at Dean, “ready to go home?” Dean nodded and sighed at the sad remnants of his cold breakfast, “Yeah, can’t wait to get a decent meal in me”.

A nurse entered the room to remove all the hardware stuck into Dean as Sam busied himself throwing Dean’s things into a duffel bag. There were only a couple of get-well cards and a few pairs of worn pajamas and the plastic bag with Dean’s wallet, car keys and tapes that the police had recovered from the car. The nurse looked down in the trash can by the bed “oh this card must have fallen in the trash”, she fished out a pretty generic get-well-soon card with a cartoon thermometer with the flu on the front. Dean didn’t say a word, he only glared at the card as the nurse handed it to Sam on her way out, wishing Dean all the best. Sam opened the card, the printed text said, “You’ll soon be back to your cool self” and another cartoon of a considerably livelier thermometer. In pretty, cursive writing was written,

“Dean,

We’re glad to hear you’re recovering.  
Ben has settled into his new school, his knowledge of Zeppelin is a real hit with the ladies out here and he thanks you for that, I do too.  
Take care of yourself.

Lisa & Ben”

Dean took in a lungful of air the moment Sam wheeled him out of the hospital main doors. Angling the full length cast on his leg into Sam’s car had been a challenge but soon they were parked outside Dean’s house and the brothers were trying to get Dean out of the car. “Fuck Sam it’s stuck. That’s it, I’m gonna rot in this plastic hunk of crap forever”, Sam rolled his eyes, “quit the dramatics Dean and help push the seat back. And leave my car out of it”. Dean stopped trying to maneuver his encased leg and gazed suspiciously around his drive way, “Sam, what happened to my car?” Sam took in a sharp breath, “let’s just get you the hell out of mine, then we can get some coffee going”.

The mug of coffee shook in Dean’s trembling hand when he took in the sad sight of his baby in the garage. The driver side door had been completely removed by the fire fighters who had cut Dean out. All four wheels were clumps of melted rubber, the paint work was bubbled and peeling and the front resembled a battered accordion than the beautifully kept car it had once been. Sam took the mug from his brother’s hands and left Dean to be alone with the car.

The wreck of a car lying miserably in Dean’s garage drained the enthusiasm he’d been building in the hospital. He sat every day since returning to his house watching Dr Sexy repeats and adding to the piles of fast food packets which littered his front room. Sam had not given up on his brother and he dropped off healthy meals and recovery leaflets whenever he had time on his way into work, but Sam would meet his salads and pamphlets again when he took the trash out.

Catalogues for Impala parts were gathering dust on the ground by Dean’s feet. The cast was gone, but the immensity of the destruction to his car still left him immobile, as did the fact that it had been all his own doing. Sam let himself into Dean’s house carrying a container of vegetables which Dean eyed with suspicion, “shouldn’t you be at work or something?”, Dean didn’t even move from the couch he was sprawled over. Sam scowled down at his brother, “It’s Saturday”,  
“It’s Saturday”, Dean mimicked in a high pitched voice, turning his head back to the tele novella being shown.

Sam stored his container in the fridge, wincing at the smell. When he returned to the front room he snatched the remote from Dean’s hand and turned the TV off. Dean let out a cry of anger but settled into resigned silence when he looked into his brothers weary eyes, but the older Winchester was not above pouting his lower lip out. “Don’t sulk Dean, you’re not a fucking princess. We need to talk”. Dean rolled his eyes, waiting for Sam to continue with his holy crusade of bettering Dean’s life. “I’ve found the perfect activity for you and if you try it out and don’t like it, I promise to get off your back about getting healthy” Sam hesitated, “well”, Dean encouraged, “c’mon, surprise me”, if Sam was going to stop harassing him, he’d do anything. “Ok, but don’t laugh, I’m serious about this”, Dean sat forward anxiously, waiting for potentially the last sport his brother would try and shove down his throat. Sam coughed, “I think you should try pole dancing”.

Dean’s jaw was floored, he couldn’t hide the shock from his face and it was useless to try and stop the nervous laughter from bubbling out of his throat. Sam worked his mastery of the bitch face and silenced his brother in an instant as Dean came to the realisation that his brother was dead serious. “I know a guy who said it helped someone he knew, and I read about it in a book”.  
“You and your stupid books”,  
“Say that again to the Vonneguts under your bed”,  
“Shut up”.

Sam ran to the door as Dean was hastily limping after him with a murderous look darkening his face, “Just say you’ll come and meet the guy, please Dean. I said we could get lunch tomorrow. I’ll pick you up tomorrow ok”, Dean gave Sam a pathetic shove outside. “Ow, ok I’m going”, he said to the door which was slammed in his face, “and you’re coming to lunch”, he shouted through the key hole. “Could have gone worse”, he muttered to himself, asking Dean Winchester if he wanted to go twirl round a pole was not something that just anybody could walk away from intact.

* * *

The diner was Dean’s favorite type of diner, the kind that strived to deep fry the very air around them. The brothers were sitting next to each other, and were simultaneously browsing the menu and frowning at their watches. Dean was blocked in by Sam on his right and the sticky window to his left and he fidgeted anxiously like a caged animal. Gabriel was supposed to have shown up 15 minutes ago.

“Tell me how you know this guy Sam”. Sam scanned his eyes down the menu with contempt, “I’m his lawyer, I represented him in a case involving 15 candy bars, 12 bottles of vodka, 3 prostitutes and a complete box set of the X-Files if I remember right”. Dean gave an impressed nod, “so what happened?”,  
“Sorry I can’t tell you the story, it’s confidential, and it’s a pity because you’d love it. But I did a stand-up job and got him off with only a fine. I actually think we’re, oddly, friends now”.  
“Damn I’d love to know that story and dude, X-Files? At least this dude has taste”. The brothers returned to their menus, when a honeyed voice drifted towards them, “Taste? You think I have taste? Well then, I aim to disappoint you, Dean I presume”, Gabriel held out his hand as he slid into the seat opposite the men.

With initial introductions over and their food ordered, received and picked at Gabriel seemed to assume the persona of a sleazy businessman before Dean’s very eyes. The plaid shirt and faded jeans he wore could easily have been a three-piece suit, and Dean couldn’t help but respond with a defensive manner. Gabriel steepled his fingers, “now usually I dive straight into numbers, but this is on a more personal level so I’m gonna give you some spiel about my little brother and then I’m gonna give you a couple free lessons. Sound good?” The brothers could only nod dumbly, even Sam seemed surprised by the professionalism.

“My little bro, he was a little, shall we say unstable, when he was younger. Truth is he loves too much and he loves too hard, a sensitive soul is our Castiel. Anyway one night there’s some trouble going on in the club I own, Club Angels, you should show up some time, real classy, anyway, when I turn up to sort it out lo and behold it’s little Cassie, completely wasted and tearing up the place. He was scaring the customers and my girls and that’s just not on. So I did what any loving older brother would do, I threw him into the back studio to sober up and got on with the nights show.

When I went through to check on him the sick bastard was grinding against one of the poles. He said it made him feel free, or some shit like that, but I got a couple of the girls to train him up. Now he’s the best god damn pole dancer I’ve ever seen, and it really sickens me to say that, I mean he’s my brother, but he also rakes in the cash by teaching in classes I set up. We never talk about that night, I figure it was a break up or something, but seriously he’s so much happier, excuse me, can I get a chocolate fudge cake here, thanks”. A passing waitress nodded at the request.

Gabriel grinned at the Winchesters opposite him, waiting for their response. His grin deepened when the waitress returned with his cake. Dean said to her, “excuse me, can I get a slice of that apple pie on the counter?” Gabriel put a gentle hand on the waitresses arm, “I don’t think so, no pie for him. He’s, em, he’s diabetic”, and he gave the waitress a lurid wink, sending her off in a blush. Dean was breathing deeply, fists clenched, “what the fuck dude?” Gabriel dug into his cake with enthusiasm, “you are now on a diet. My brother can turn even your stubborn ass into a pole-god , but he’s not a miracle worker, you need to give him something promising to start with Deano”, and he turned all his attention back to his cake.

The men parted with a shaking of hands in the car park. The shake seemed to seal away Dean’s ability to make his own choices in life, but his brother was smiling down at him with such happiness that he would do anything to keep that smile fixed there. “Oh by the way”, Gabriel called to them from half way across the car park, “my brother, he’s gay”.  
“I don’t mind that”, Dean shouted back honestly.

“Ah, college”.  
Dean cocked his ear, “sorry?”

Gabriel jogged towards the brother’s car, “ you had your gay experiences in college?” Dean spluttered but Gabriel maintained a sincere look and Dean’s cheeks heated, “I, uh, I never went to college”.

Gabriel turned his eyes up to Sam who raised an eyebrow but kept silent. “See you on Monday night Dean”, and Gabriel turned away from the men with a grin lighting up his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has his first lesson.

Dean put on his sweats, they were a bit tighter in the waist than he previously remembered, but he ignored the extra pressure of the waistband. Sam pulled up outside his house, his hair and suit disheveled from a hard day at work, “c’mon Dean, at least try and be a little enthusiastic”. Dean raised his hands limply above his head and shook them in mock excitement before getting into the car, muttering under his breath where Sam could stick his enthusiasm.

The studio was not what Dean had expected, he had pictured a dingy back room with cigarette grime coating every surface and sticky, rusted poles. However the room was large and airy with bright lights and clean pale blue painted walls. Two walls were completely covered in glistening mirrors which reflected the waxed wooden flooring and the five pristine poles placed strategically around the room.

A man was standing by a wall mounted docking station, searching through the music library on his phone. He wore a simple black t-shirt which clung unashamedly to his pronounced chest and stomach muscles. His sweats were a creamy beige which complimented the bronze of his skin.

“Shut your trap Dean, I don’t want you slobbering all over the floor”, Dean jumped at Gabriel’s intrusive voice but was satisfied to see the man across the room jump too. Dean shut his mouth which he’d allowed to gape open and glared at Gabriel, “where the hell is everyone else”, Dean said rudely. “Mates-rates Deano, you’re getting the one-on-one treatment. Besides our classes start at a difficulty of shit, you my friend are sub-shit”. Dean bristled at that, just because he didn’t want to do it, didn’t mean he was going to be bad at it, “what do you mean, I could surprise you”. Gabriel laughed, “Dean the bandages on your chest still need changing every morning and you have a scrap yards worth of metal in your leg, the only thing that will surprise me is if you don’t get magnetically attached to the pole”.

“That’s enough Gabriel”, Dean’s spine shivered, the man’s voice was so low, lower even than Dean’s and Dean was quite proud of the gravity of his own voice. But this man’s voice was like a mountain being rocked by a rumble of thunder. Like Morgan Freeman had just gone through a second puberty. “I’m sure Dean here will do very well. And we will only be going through some strengthening exercises to begin, with little contact to the pole. So there should be no unwanted magnetic attractions”.

Dean swallowed drily, his head racing to know how he ended up in that studio with those two people. Gabriel clapped his hands together, “right, looks like you two will get on just fine. I’ll be off then. Oh and Dean, if you wanna find it, you gotta grind it”, Gabriel left them with a thrust of his hips, a crude wink and a chocolate bar wrapper. “That would be Club Angel’s famous motto, Gabriel is very proud of it, but I apologise for my brother. He’s-”  
“a jerk?”  
“I was going to say proud of his asshole status. But jerk suits just fine. I’m Castiel. Shall we begin?”

By the end of the hour Dean’s whole body throbbed with the kind of pain that screamed that it was good for you. The lesson had been good, Castiel was a very thorough and patient teacher although he was not as chatty as Dean would have liked. Considering it was two guys in a room together trying to pole dance, Dean would have liked slightly more levity from his instructor, but Castiel remained quite resigned.

The playlist they had worked through was not to Dean’s taste, but the beats were invigorating and not overly provocative as he lifted his weights. The hour passed by easily and Castiel started tidying the weights away, “that’s it?” Dean asked, “I’m not even getting to try a single twirl on the pole. Not that I’m desperate to get jiggy with Miss Stainless Steel here or anything”. Castiel smiled at Dean, “you’re obviously strong, Dean, but your stay in hospital has weakened not only your arm muscles, but your core abdominal muscles. And you need to take it easy on your left leg. In time pole dancing will make your muscles stronger than they ever were. But we don’t want to rush into it. If you want to hurry things along you could always do strength training in your own time.” Castiel made to turn off the cool down music which had been playing gently around them, “Castiel, wait”, Dean said, “I don’t even get an example of what I could be doing”.

Castiel turned round slowly on the balls of his feet, a smirk playing on his lips. “Dean, are you requesting a pole dance from me?” Dean’s face flared ruby red as his words sunk in to his brain, _damn it, why’d you say that. Idiot._ Dean’s insides were a flustered mess but his body gave a calm shrug and he tried turning his embarrassment into a joking taunt, “well, if you don’t think you’re up to it. I totally get it. Gabriel really sang your praises at the diner, but obviously his compliments were misplaced”. _Nice one cool guy, real smooth. Now you’ve pissed him off._

Castiel was pissed, his nostrils flared sightly and a crease appeared on his brow. He strode towards Dean, placed his hands on the taller man’s shoulders and pushed him to sit on a bench by the music system. “Misplaced compliments my ass. When I tell you to press play, press play”.

Castiel rose to Dean’s provocation with dignity and performed a display which left the Winchester’s mind reeling and a curious tightness in his groin which had nothing to do with the smaller waistband of his sweats. All previous strip clubs, pole dances, lap dances, and even some sexual encounters were all chased out of Dean’s head by the way Castiel had taken full control of his body and moved it in just the right ways.

His slight muscles flexed with power as he gripped the pole and swung his legs up and over his head, next second he was twirling around with his legs out in a horizontal ‘V’, next second he was rolling his shoulders on the floor while his ankles gripped the pole. The constant movement and blurry energy left Dean in stunned silence with his mouth agape. He sincerely hoped Gabriel didn’t make a surprise appearance again.

At the end of the performance Castiel inclined his head with a simple smile at Dean, but his eyes danced with an unsaid “fuck you”. Dean didn’t trust his voice not to crack so he kept quiet. Cas ushered the silent man out of the studio door, “I have to lock up. I’ll see you next week Dean”.

* * *

“How’d it go? Dean you ok? You’re shaking”. Dean barely noticed his younger brother talking to him as he entered the car after his first pole dancing lesson. His mind was still in shock and battling against stirring emotions which he didn’t want to acknowledge. No way.

* * *

The next day Dean went to the gym. The arrogant, advertisers-for-steroid guys were in the same corner they’d always been when Dean had visited the gym regularly, back when he was still a single mechanic looking to pick up chicks at dive bars. Lisa’s Ben couldn’t put on any muscle no matter what he tried, so Dean stopped going to the gym in support.

His very soul still ached from the evening before, but it was a good, dull ache, a promise that the pain would be worth it in the end.

By Friday Dean was not so optimistic. His body was not responding as quickly as it once had, and the elation he got from a work out barely masked the stabbing pain in his leg, a constant reminder of his stupidity.

Deep down, his mind tried to reconcile with itself, telling Dean he just had to be patient, that he had only had three days at the gym which was not enough time for major changes. But the fear of letting Castiel down plagued Dean’s mind, and he would be returning to work soon so would not have time to boost his strength. Dean was surrounded by fellow gym goers, but his mind was lost within itself, stirring up old memories and regrets. Dean’s hands clenched white on the bar of the weights he was lifting as he tried to push the thoughts away and focusing on the burning in his arms.

Dean groaned as he stared at his toned arms. The work outs had given his muscles a more present out line, but Dean had hoped for more, he did not want to show up to the lesson and be told he wasn’t strong enough to actually have a go on the pole. Sam being a damn lawyer had put a claus in their pact that Dean had to actually learn some maneuvers on the pole before he decided to pack it in.

A queasy sensation turned Dean’s stomach, _what if I never get strong enough,_ a wave of worthlessness rolled over him as Dean desperately searched for something in the gym to focus on and find his bearings. All his eyes saw however were the chiseled frames of gods and goddesses mocking his own pitiful attempts to join them amongst their ranks.

“No”, he moaned as the room spun and he headed for the bathroom, “no”. It had all been going well, there had been no anxiety after the hospital, Dean had been perfectly content to watch Dr Sexy M.D. for the rest of his life. “But you just had to butt your way in Sam”, a pulse of guilt wracked his body as he collapsed on all fours in a stall, _Sam was only trying to help, don’t blame him you sorry piece of shit, it wasn’t Sam who drove your car into that truck-_

“Hello Dean”.  
Dean’s eyes widened as he realised that his mind was probably incapable of replicating the the gravelly tones he’d heard. Which meant that the man the voice belonged to was probably standing behind him. _Shitshitshitshit_ Dean raised himself from the ground and turned to face Cas as if sobbing on dirty bathroom floors was a common everyday occurrence.

Castiel’s face was unreadable, but it did hold the promise of offering comfort if needed. In the stretching silence Dean almost puked from the embarrassment as the last few moments replayed in his head on loop, and he imagined how he had looked to Castiel, with his ass up in the air, in a stall, taking shuddering breaths.

“Hey, Castiel”, Dean managed to choke out, absentmindedly rubbing at his flaming neck. “Are you ok Dean? and you can call me Cas” Castiel tilted his head sincerely towards Dean. “Me, what, yeah I’m good. Just over did the weights a bit. You know, building my strength and lifting and yeah...” Dean let his ramblings fall to silence as Castiel smiled at him. “Well now I know what will happen when I over work you Dean”, Castiel’s smile turned into such a cheeky smirk that Gabriel would have shed a proud tear for his little brother, and the images of Dean down on all fours played through his head on loop again. Dean’s fading blush returned with a vengeance as he failed to contain his flustered stutters.

Castiel’s blank face had returned as they made their way out of the gym and said, “I meant it when I said take it easy. There’s no rush is there? I would hate for you to harm yourself, be that physically or even emotionally”, he threw a knowing look at Dean which the Winchester ignored.

“Hey, how did you know where I was? I didn’t see you in the gym”. Dean gave himself a mental pat on the back for an excellent performance of changing the subject as Cas answered his question, “ Oh, I was passing by near here when a friend texted me saying you were having, er, troubles”, Dean scowled at that, “how did they know I’m taking a class, do I have ‘Stripper In Training’ tattooed on my forehead or something”.

Cas took a step away from Dean, his slack blank looking turning sharper and colder. “I do talk to my friends about the classes Dean, and if you really want to know, I knew you would hit the gym so I asked them to keep an eye on you. Which after todays events I am rather glad of. Now I really must be going, but I would appreciate if you would try and refrain from equating pole dancing solely with stripping. I’ve always believed both activities deserve much more respect than they inevitably receive”. Castiel gave Dean a curt nod of his head and the chastisement left the Dean feeling 2 ft tall.

* * *

Dean twirled his finger around the phone cord which, had he been more focused on what he was doing, he would have stopped instantly. “And then Sam, and then, he said he told his friend at the gym to look out for me. Like some sort of fucking guardian angel, which was kind of”, Dean swallowed down the word ‘sweet’, “cool, you know. But honestly dude I’m struggling to see which one of those jackasses is his friend, Cas just seems way less pretentious than those jerks. Or maybe it’s his boyfriend and he’s got a thing for muscles, Lisa was into muscly guys”, Dean stopped for a breath and to stall his mind from venturing into Lisa territory.

Sam pounced on the opportunity to talk, “Dean, that’s great that Castiel, or Cas was there to help you, and that he’s a sound guy, but there’s a case I’ve got to go to like 5 minutes ago, so can we reschedule your gushing proclamations about Cas for later this evening?”  
“Bitch”.  
“Jerk”.  
“Knock ‘em dead Sammy”.  
“I’ll try Dean”.

****

#### **The Fireman**

“Only if you’re sure you’re ready Dean”,  
“I am”.

Castiel made it look so fluid, so easy, like water droplets racing down a car window, it looked natural. He had taken 4 steps on his toes around the pole then smoothly transitioned into a spin with both hands on the pole and both legs locked together round the pole.

Dean had swaggered up to the pole, pleased with how Cas had praised his increased strength, but slightly put off by the way Cas wasn’t exactly thrilled for him wanting to have a twirl. He followed Cas’s advice and gripped the pole with his dominant hand, allowing his toned arm a flex and hiding a smirk as he noted Castiel’s gaze intensify on his arm. He leaned out, keeping his weight away from the pole, “you don’t want to hit the metal”, Cas had said with hint of mischief.

Dean raised himself to the balls of his feet, keeping his head high and fighting the urge to curl himself away from the ridiculous position he was in. _Just one little spin, then I can quit and I’ll have Sam off my ass too. I can do this._ Dean huffed out a breath and went for it. He took four smooth steps around the pole then brought his other hand up to the bar and braced both arms to carry his weight as he brought his legs up to encircle the pole.

His arms strained and buckled at the elbow which tilted his weight towards the pole. Dean’s vision was suddenly a wall of metal as his head went racing forwards, but he dropped his legs down and pushed himself away. Unfortunately he was over zealous in his haste to stop his face being smashed, and had pushed back too vigorously. Dean ended up with a thud on his ass on the floor and a knock to his pride as Castiel’s rumbling laughter reached his blushing ears.

“Not as easy as you think is it”,  
“Show me how it’s done again”, Dean said standing up and rubbing his bruised ass.

Castiel’s sad eyes followed Dean as he gave a smile which lacked any happiness, “it’s ok Dean, I know about the deal with your brother. You’ve had your twirl, we can stop now”.

Cas made towards the docking station to turn the music off. Dean stood still, relieved not to have Sam annoying him anymore, but something else was trying to make itself heard in head, “Cas, wait”. Flashes of the performance Cas had given ran through his head, the freedom with which Cas had let the ecstasy of the dance light up his face burned through Dean’s mind. He needed that freedom for himself, longed for the kind of release he’d witnessed through Cas.

Dean looked down at the floor in mock sheepishness and said, “ geez Cas, I know I was shit, but I heard that you could turn even my stubborn ass into something half way decent, or are you not up to the challenge”. Cas roamed his eyes over Dean’s body, and Dean fought against the urge to turn away and hide himself, being under the intense focus of those blue eyes made Dean uncomfortable, _but damn are his eyes blue._

“Oh I think I could do much better than something half way decent”, Cas raised his eyes, unashamedly full of regret, from Dean’s hips, “but I thought you wouldn’t want to continue on your path of a ‘stripper in training’ as you put so eloquently last week”. Dean rubbed nervously at his jaw, this was another chance for him to escape, to walk away from the pole, and from Cas. “Look man, I’m sorry about that, I fully admit that I’m an ignorant jerk when it comes to”, Dean waved a hand vaguely at the forrest of poles in the room, “but I like a challenge, and this is one hell of a challenge. So if you’ll have me, I’m in”.

There was a momentary stunned look on Castiel’s face before it was replaced with a childish grin, as he walked towards Dean with his hand out stretched. Dean took the offered hand and shook it vigorously, still slightly dazed at what had just come out of his mouth. Castiel tugged at his hand, pulling Dean away from the pole and taking his place, right hand letting go of Dean, gripping the cool metal tightly. “Now, the Fireman is a basic spin…”.

By the end of the hour Dean poured with sweat and his hands burned and stung, but his heart was as light as a feather. Cas gave his back some friendly pats, and Dean was grateful that he made no sounds of disgust at the sticky dampness of the cooling sweat through his top. “Dude you haven’t even broken a sweat”, Cas made his way to the docking station, “takes a lot more than few grinds to tire me out”, he said, throwing back a wink to Dean. “Well I did say that I do love a challenge”, Dean replied. _What the actual fuck dude,_ Dean internally kicked himself and ignored the eternally suppressed and traitorous part of him which flared bright at how natural he found flirting with Cas to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean immediately sensed a tension in the air as he walked into the studio. Castiel was pacing the floor clenching his fists in agitation and glaring at his reflection in the mirror. Dean stood still by the door and was struck by the sudden and singular terror of being trapped within spitting distance of a wild animal.

Castiel’s eyes met Dean’s in the mirror and his expression softened, but his body maintained it’s pent-up charge. Dean had no intention of being the focus of the fury which Cas was storing inside him, so he kept his mouth tightly shut for once and patiently waited for Cas to begin. Castiel made his way woodenly to the docking station, agitation rippling from his body with each step, and once he got to it couldn’t get his phone on the jack. The lines on his forehead deepening in frustration as he let out the barest of sigh of distress.

Maybe it was the way Castiel’s face had softened at the sight of Dean, or maybe Dean just desperately needed to break the stifling silence, but he felt a spark of bravery and opened his mouth to speak. “Cas, you mind if we take it easy tonight? My leg feels like it’s been broken all over again this week”, Cas turned towards Dean and smiled at him a little sheepishly, “I’m sorry Dean”. Dean waved a hand at Cas, brushing the apology aside with a smile, “why are you sorry, it’s me that’s got the bust up leg. Maybe I’ll just get a coffee across the street until Sammy comes to pick me up, you want to come with?”  
“Will you want to talk about what’s got me so annoyed?”  
“Annoyed? Don’t know whet you’re talking about, Cas”. Dean put on a dazzling smile, which brightened at the sight of Cas trying, and failing, to hide a bashful grin.  
“Yes, Dean, I’d love to get a coffee with you”.

* * *

The curiosity was a burning poker in Dean’s guts, but he stayed true to his word and didn’t bring up the subject of what had gotten Cas all flustered. His imagination however would not take the hint, and all types of scenarios were flying through his brain.

Dean’s number one theory was one that involved Cas’s ‘friend’ from the gym. He picked the biggest jerk he knew from there and imagined Cas and the jerk having a huge fight. A fight where Cas throws the guy out of his house and out of his life, like a corny soap opera.  It also involved Cas throwing the guy’s clothes out the window, screaming loudly for all the neighbors to hear about the jerk’s tiny, little penis. Other theories involved more mundane things like too many bills, or failed cooking attempts, and they were much less developed in Dean’s mind.

The two men talked about absolutely anything and everything, and Dean promised to try the burger joint Cas loved two blocks away, as long as Cas promised to watch at least one episode of Dr Sexy M.D. and they swapped numbers to keep in contact about lessons. They also both convinced each other to reschedule the lesson, “when is best for you Dean?”, Dean laughed, “I don’t go back to work for another couple of weeks yet, so I’m free all the time”. Castiel nodded, “well my week’s pretty full, I was going to be busy tomorrow evening”, Castiel’s eyes wondered away from Dean’s face in contemplation, Dean’s curiosity sparked up again but he kept quiet and let Cas have his moment, “but I will no longer be busy”. _Oh yeah, he totally just dumped his jerk of a boyfriend, good for him._  
“It’s settled then, tomorrow. Same time as Mondays or...?”  
“Yes, same time will be fine Dean, and I believe that’s your brother out there on the street looking very confused”.

Sam did indeed look confused, but his big eyes were also filled with a little hurt as Dean and Cas exited the coffee shop. “Dean, I hope you’re not convincing Castiel to skip your lessons for dates”, Dean opened and closed his mouth dumbly, frantically searching for an answer. He didn’t want to encroach on Castiel’s privacy while Cas was standing right there, and tell his brother the truth. But he couldn’t tell his brother the lie he’d told Castiel about his leg because Sam knew damn well that Dean’s leg was only getting, as Dean had  frequently bragged, stronger and stronger.

Cas’s voice dropped between the brothers, “Dean made such good progress that he felt he owed me a coffee for being such a great teacher, and I couldn’t refuse free coffee. Not a date”. Sam turned red and started apologising to both Dean and Cas, trying to explain it was just a little joke. He offered the other man a lift home with the brothers, which Cas refused saying he still had some stuff to do at the studio, and he had his own car. As Dean was making his way into the car he mouthed a ‘thank you’ at Cas behind Sam’s back, to which Cas replied with a smile and a slight inclination of his head.

Dean’s phone vibrated and he searched in his pockets for it. The text was from Cas,

** >You still owe me a free coffee ;)**

Dean’s face erupted in a smile, Sam shifted in the drivers seat and said, “What’s got you so happy?”  
“eh, your company. Sam can I get a lift to the studio tomorrow?”

“You’re really taking this thing seriously huh, yeah, um sure yeah. Of course you can Dean”, Sam sounded genuinely thrilled for Dean choosing to go to another lesson and the usual warmth that came with making Sam happy flowed through Dean. “You know what, I kind of enjoy it. But I’ll completely deny it if you ever bring up that I said that. You should have a go Sammy, let your hair fly free through the air”. Dean laughed as Sam put on a pouty bitch face and threw a playful punch at his arm.

####  **The V-Spin**

The Tuesday lesson was back to the ambiance of the first Monday, with Castiel’s reserved facade barely masking his playfulness. “Today Dean, we’re going to try a new position which uses a lot of arm and core strength. It’s called the V-Spin. Ready to give it a go?” Dean nodded and so they began.

The V-Spin looked simple enough, it began as ever with the dominant hand in a baseball grip high up and four quick steps on the balls of his feet around the pole to build momentum. Dean was getting skilled in this first part, it was the every part after that which was tricky. He had to stretch down and put his left hand far down the pole with his arm straight, to create a wide grip. If he got it right he would be facing the pole, next he had to raise his legs to create a horizontal ‘V’ and allow the momentum to carry the spin through. He wasn’t sure which muscles would hurt the more the next day.

His arms had buckled to begin with but after a few attempts of getting used to holding up his weight, Dean started to focus on holding the position correctly. “No Dean, you’ve got to lock your hips, they can’t sway or it looks silly and weak, and will hurt you more”. Dean noticed the ‘more’, but didn’t say a word as he could feel the familiar agitation rising at his failed attempts. “Here I’ll hold your hips and pull you round”, Castiel had firm hands on the other man’s hips before Dean could even register the touch.

Up to that point, contact had been minimal. Castiel always seemed able to judge what Dean was comfortable with and Dean was completely comfortable with the support and the touching, it was simply the surprise intimacy that made him blurt out, “whoa whoa whoa isn’t that kinda...”, his teeth clamped down his tongue before he could continue. Castiel arched an eyebrow, “kinda what Dean?” he asked, voice dripping with mock innocence. “You know, well... kinda... gay?” Dean finished meekly.

“Dean, did I ask you to put your cock in my ass?” Castiel boldly demanded.  
“What?!” Dean managed to squeak out.  
“I said did I ask you to put your cock in my ass?  
“No, no, no you didn’t”, Dean said, feeling his cheeks redden.  
“Then believe me”, Cas said with a debauched wink, “it’s not kinda gay”

In the next half hour or so, Dean let Cas roam his hands through places that Dean hadn’t let anyone touch in a long, long time, all in the name of perfect positioning he kept telling himself. At one particularly intimate scenario, where Dean was holding himself half way up the pole, and Cas was crouching below, supporting him from the bottom, a syrupy voice sashayed it’s way across the room to them, “I think Dean would appreciate something to ease the passing if you’re going to stick your thumb up there”. 

Dean could hear Gabriel’s gaudy smile in his words. “I’d appreciate you sticking your own thumb up your own ass and fucking off”, Dean sang back to him, although it may have had a better effect if he couldn’t feel Cas’s hand so clearly on his bum cheek, and his thumb dangerously near _there_. “I’m offended, are you going to let him talk to me like that little brother”.  
“And let him know that deep down you’re an an angel with a sweet, sensitive core. I wouldn’t insult you like that brother”.

Cas let Dean get down from the pole as the short man sauntered towards them, whistling tunelessly to the pop song playing softly from the speakers. “So Cassie, when do you think Deano here will be ready for the big showstopper, the spectacle of a lifetime, my greatest monument to the industry of sleaze? I hope you’re giving him the full-on sexy experience of Club Angels. Wanna find it? You gotta grind it, am I right”.

Castiel’s face turned rigid, and Dean saw the return of the scarcely concealed anger from the night before. “No”. That single word was a physical force which brought a twitch to Gabriel’s eager expression. “Aww come on bro”.  
“Can I speak with you outside Gabriel”.  
“Shouldn’t Dean come too”, Dean was loathed to agree with Gabriel, but the little guy had a point, he wanted to know what they brothers were discussing. Castiel struck with his voice again, “no”, he placed a hand on comfortingly Dean’’s shoulder, “it does not concern Dean, please Gabriel”.

The ‘please’ must have worked because Gabriel sighed but nodded his head. “Well if he’s not in it, then there’s no harm discussing it in front of him right”, the air was taut between the brothers, as if they were playing a game and first to blink would lose. Castiel’s eyes widened in panic, but Dean wasn’t going to let him blink, “sorry Gabe, but we’re in the middle of a lesson. I’m pretty sure whatever you’ve got to discuss with Cas here can be done in your own time”.

Gabriel turned his full attention to Dean and beamed at him as if he was proud of how Dean had swooped in to save his brother from whatever awkwardness would have befallen him, “Of course it can, right you are Dean. I’ll let you two get back to obliviously wading your way through the sexual tension. Don’t forget the lube next time”. Gabriel winked and made an over zealous bow, begging sirs for his forgiveness and made his way swiftly out the door.

“Thank you”, Castiel mouthed to Dean who was scowling at the space where Gabriel had been standing. “I still owe you that coffee, right?”, Cas smiled at Dean, “yes you do, and I owe you an explanation, so I think you’ll need more than just a coffee”.

* * *

Dean phoned Sam to let him know he wouldn’t need a lift home then settled himself into the booth at the burger joint which Cas had praised so highly. And to be fair they did make a damn fine burger, but for once in his life, Dean found himself being transfixed by something more than the food in front of him. The enigma sitting opposite him, playing absentmindedly with some fries was away to reveal all his secrets. Well some secrets. But Dean wasn’t counting. 

Cas kept his eyes lowered as he started talking to the plate of food in front of him, “I work for Gabriel, at his club. I’m a stripper. And I hate it. I have great respect for my fellows, but I personally do not enjoy it, that’s why I was angry last night. I’d just finished telling Gabriel that I was going to quit, and I should be working tonight but...” Cas sighed and turned his attention to the basket of condiments. “Now Gabriel’s pissed and is getting revenge by trying to get you involved in the big strip-off bonanza he holds every year. But don’t worry I won’t let him get his way, our lessons are purely work outs, not performance. Besides I’m going back to work so that should keep him happy”. Cas raised his eyes and squinted at Dean who was glaring at the plate of food in front of him.

“Dean...?”  
“You don’t like it, but you still do it. That’s stupid.” Dean said through gritted teeth. He couldn’t control the sudden fury which roared through his body at the thought of Cas grinding against the sleazy patrons of Club Angels, their grimy hands scraping dollars against Cas’s smooth skin.

“It’s complicated”, Cas answered warily as Dean’s hands balled into fists, Dean couldn’t shake the suspicion that Cas secretly loved to dance for the rowdy crowd, would give them the cheeky smile, the one he liked to throw at Dean, as he worked them into a frenzy. _Whoa calm down, the man can do what he wants, just chill out,_ Dean took some deep breaths and tuned back into Castiel’s frantic babbling, “I mean, I know I seem like a hypocrite for telling you to separate pole dancing from stripping, and then I go and do the exact opposite, but Dean you’ve got to believe me, I just like dancing for me, not for anyone else, just me, although dancing for you was a pleasure and...” that caught Dean’s attention and as he looked at Cas he realised how frightened the man looked by Dean’s aggressive reaction.

“Hey, Cas, Cas, it’s ok”, Dean laid his hands flat on the table to stop them from reaching out and clasping the hands opposite him. “I don’t know what came over me, I just, sorry. Look I don’t care if you’re a stripper, you’re still a cool dude, that’s all that matters and I’m grateful you told me”, _and I’m totally jealous of all those jerks you strip for._ Dean desperately drowned out that part of his mind by humming Zeppelin in his head at a mind-numbing volume and executed a perfect subject-change by declaring, “man that is a fucking delicious burger”.  
“Yeah it is, I knew you’d like it, but would you like to finish my fries, I’m not a big fan of them”. Dean wiggled his eye brows and moved a handful of Cas’s fries to his plate, “lucky for you I like both.” 

The conversation again flowed easily between them, and kept on flowing as Cas pulled up by Dean’s house. Boxes of abandoned parts for his Impala were piled by the side of the garage, the remnants of a time when Dean had that initial burst of motivation. Cas looked at them questioningly, “they’re for my car”, Dean mumbled. “Oh so you do have a car, you just enjoy your brother being your personal chauffeur”, Cas teased.  
“Yeah, Sammy loves it. But my car... she’s not looking her best at the moment. And to be honest I don’t think she’ll ever run again”, Dean said sadly. Dean opened the door to the cold night air and turned to Cas to thank him for telling him the truth, and for the lift home, and to say goodbye, but instead he said, “hey do you wanna see her?”

* * *

Showing his baby to Castiel was like having a stream of ice cold water strike his chest, Dean couldn’t find his breath and felt incredibly vulnerable. The wounded car had gathered dust in the time it had lain in the garage, wallowing in it’s own pain and Dean could empathize. The car had never been far from his mind, but seeing his baby all battered and bruised by his own hand made it all the more real what he had put her through. “I know she’s not much to look at now, but you should have seen her before, I’d work on her for hours and she was-”, Dean almost choked at the memory, his eyes stinging.

“Beautiful”, Castiel had a look of wonder illuminating his face as he turned from the car to look at Dean, “beautiful. Your car is beautiful Dean”. The Winchester blushed at the sincerity in Castiel’s voice and tried to squirm out of the compliment, “yeah but she’s all broken”. 

Castiel fished the key for his own car out of his pocket, ready to go, and walked past Dean, pushing a magazine he’d lifted from Dean’s workbench into Dean’s chest, “if something’s broken, it just means it can be made even more beautiful with little a hard work and love. I think I read that in a self help pamphlet... anyway, thanks for showing me your car Dean”. Castiel’s hand still rested on Dean’s chest gently pushing the magazine against his t-shirt with splayed fingers, the pressure was comforting and Dean was loathed to bring his hands up to take hold of the magazine himself. Their eyes briefly locked in an intimate moment of shared secrets and bared broken things. Dean quickly grabbed the magazine, jerking his arms up like they had been struck by scalding water, breaking the connection. Castiel let himself out of the house and left Dean in the garage desperately clutching the car parts magazine in slightly trembling hands.


	4. Chapter 4

“It’s ok Sam, I can take the bus to work, today’s just a ‘welcome back here’s fifteen safety manuals for you to reread’ kind of day”, Dean had said in an exasperated breath on the phone, but he still hugged his brother tightly when Sam arrived to pick him up anyway and opened the front door to let himself in. “I couldn’t let you take the bus Dean, I should have been there when you first got out the hospital instead of let you rot, so I’ve taken some time off work to help with stuff”. Dean raised both his eyebrows, “The great Sam never-loses-a-case Winchester has taken time off work to help little old me. You feeling ok? Are you possessed or something?” 

Sam grinned down at his brother, “It is exactly because I’m helping little old you that I’m getting the time off. It’s in my contract, if there’s a family problem I can take as much time off as I can justify”, Sam said brushing his brother’s toast crumbs off the kitchen top and into the bin. “Totally justifiable Sammy, I always wanted a maid”, Sam rolled his eyes at Dean but the older Winchester continued, “no seriously, how are you getting away with it? Because I’m fit enough to work today and I’ve been hauling myself around a pole for the past few weeks, so what’s up?” Sam smiled sheepishly at Dean, taking a moment to decide whether to say what he was thinking or not, then squared his shoulders and fixed a grin on his face, “I figured I’d help my brother safely traverse the dangerous waters of his gay-freakout over Cas”.  
“That’s it, I’m taking the bus”.

Dean made it half way to the door before his brother’s long arms were pulling him back into the kitchen, “ok maybe I could have handled your man crush a bit better”,  
“you think?!”

“But Dean, do you even remember the message you left me last night”. That stopped Dean in his tracks. He knew exactly what message Sam was referring to, but he’d hoped if he just pretended it hadn’t happened, then the universe would forget about it too. But of course Sam wouldn’t forget about the fucking message. 

Dean frantically tried to think about anything truly embarrassing he may have mentioned, he knew he’d gushed about Cas’s amazing reaction to his car, which still filled him to the brim with a warm, fuzzy pride. And he’d spilled that the man was a stripper, and maybe Dean had said something about wanting to give every person who saw Cas do his thing on stage a broken nose, _Sam shouldn’t read too much into that_. But Sam kept eyeing Dean with a knowing look as they made their way to the car.

“Just forget about it Sam, I don’t know what I was thinking”.  
“Forget about it? I was going to set it as my ring tone”.  
“Shut up”.

Ten minutes of strained silence was enough for Dean’s curiosity to become unbearable. “Ok Sam, did you know that Cas was a... what Cas is... works as”. Sam laughed at his brother’s articulate question, “yeah, Gabe told me”. Dean opened and closed his fists, “but what kind of stripper is he”, Sam eased to a stop at a red light and turned his head to look seriously at his brother, “the kind that takes their clothes off, Dean”. 

A heavy silence filled the car as Dean stared down Sam’s steadily growing smile, but Sam’s smile won out and Dean turned to look out the window muttering “jerk” under his breath. The light turned green and Sam drove on as Dean said to his reflection, “I meant, does he do any of the private booth things that Gabriel’s club offers?” Dean could hear Sam shift awkwardly in his seat, “don’t torture yourself over this Dean, I’m sure Cas can lookout for himself. We’ll talk later yeah?” Sam pulled up to the garage where his brother worked and Dean got out the car with a silent nod. 

Very little had changed at the garage, practically the same cars which everyone had been working on when he’d left were still being tinkered with as he walked through to the office at the back. The only signs that time had passed were the different scantily clad ladies posing on calendars pinned to the walls. The atmosphere was at once comfortingly familiar and distressingly different as his workmates gave awkward nods of acknowledgments. 

Dean called Sam for a lift home 6 hours later after reading so many pages of renewed safety procedures that it would have brought a tree to tears. He’d spent a couple of hours helping out some of the guys with some of the cars but the time was mostly spent integrating himself back into the friendship circles. Dean left work and took with him the comforting grease which clung to his hands like it had never left and an invite to one of the guy’s stag party at the weekend. He whistled tunelessly with a grin on his face as Sam frowned at the stain his greasy fingers left on the car’s door.

“Wanna order a chinese?” Dean asked, looking at his brother hopefully. Sam nodded and pulled into Dean’s drive.  
“Only if you’re paying”, Sam threw back. 

* * *

The empty cartons were left on the coffee table as Dean sobbed quietly into his hands. Dean’s insides squirmed in ways which reminded him of how lost he’d felt after Lisa told him that she was leaving. This time was different though, this time he was standing on the precipice knowing exactly what it would be like to fall into the void, this time he wasn’t so sure he’d survive the fall. 

It was also different because he had his brother’s firm hand on his shoulder, offering the best support for the older Winchester by just being a strong presence by his side. Dean’s voice was a low and desperate stream of confusing ideas straight from his head, “What if there’s absolutely nothing going on between us. Oh god what if there is? What if Cas thinks I’m not good enough, what if I’m _not_ good enough. What if I’m just confused, I barely know the guy, but I don’t like that he’s unhappy, it makes me unhappy. What if he leaves before I get a chance to know him, what if he leaves just like she did”.

“Whoa Dean, take it easy. That’s a lot of ‘what if’s“.

Dean took a steadying breath.  
“She knew, Lisa knew. That’s another reason I was so devastated when she left. I kept thinking ‘where am I going to find another woman who doesn’t mind that I like dudes as well?’ Sounds stupid now, but back then it was just another layer of shit pressing on me”. Dean rubbed his hands against his face, “God I was so stupid Sammy”. 

Sam listened respectfully to his brother, emotional outbursts were rare amongst the Winchesters, and he needed to tread carefully. “You could have told me Dean, it doesn’t make a difference to me, you know that right? And what happened with Lisa, you weren’t stupid. You just needed help and I wasn’t there for you. And I’m sorry Dean, I’m so fucking sorry”. Dean saw tears glistening in his little brothers eyes as they both valiantly held back the floods threatening to burst from their eyes, like two little boys with skinned knees trying to be brave in front of their dad. 

“You don’t need to be sorry Sam. But I’m glad you’re here now. And I’m glad I’m here too. And I’m sorry for keeping such a big thing a secret from you”, Dean choked out.  
“A secret?” Sam guffawed, “Dean do you really think I thought you watched all that Dr Sexy crap for the riveting plot?”  Dean couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled his little brother into a crushing hug.

* * *

The last night of freedom before eternal monogamy. What’s a guy to do? Visit a strip club of course, before he waves it all goodbye. The venue of choice was Club Angel, _of course it is_ , Dean thought bitterly. When they’d been doing rounds in the pre-bar he’d tried to convince them to go to another club, but Gabriel’s place was, they all had to admit, the best the town had to offer. 

The garish lights proclaimed it paradise on earth, where your hearts desire could be found, and if you really wanted “to find it, you gotta grind it”. Stickers with Gabriel’s queasy slogan were pasted all over the club, along with pictures of Gabriel with a halo winking in a decidedly unholy manner. 

The vast, dark and pulsing room was split into four distinct sections around a central circular area sunken into the floor, scattered with luxurious chez-longues, and decadent chandeliers on stands. The first of the sections was an open expanse of floor space which the cloak room and ticket booth led on to. It was really a glamorised foyer with tall tables to rest your drinks, but the music wasn’t so obscenely loud and the open doors stopped the area from getting as stiflingly hot as the club proper. 

The short black lacquer steps to the right led down to a row of five curtained off booths where the dances could get a little more intimate at the request of Benjamin Franklins. The black lacquer steps to the left led to the bar. The full length of the room was taken up by the black and gold shrine to liquor. Giant, gold gilded angel wings protruded from the ceiling above the centre of the bar, and brass mirrors polished to a golden shine lined the back of the bar. It was garish and bold and hideous in such a stunning way that eyes couldn’t help but water at the beauty and the audacity. _Fuckin‘ Gabriel._

The final section was directly opposite the foyer and it was where the stages were and it throbbed with the loudest music and brightest lights. Two large circular podiums stood either side of a massive central rectangular stage, _hehe it looks like a penis_. Long, black velvet drapes separated the three stages from each other and covered the back of the stages. Sewn into the black velvet covering at the back of the main stage was “Club Angel” in big, gold letters.

Gabriel’s pièce de résistance was the beautiful sculpture which seemed to float above them, circling the entirety of the room, it cast everything in a lazily, dull golden haze. The framework was made up of gold gilded bands which weaved around each other in a ring around the room. Speckled throughout the bands were little lights which emitted a soft, yellow radiance into the deep darkness of the room. The whole effect was that of a halo overseeing the decadent pleasures radiating beneath it. The rich light pervading the murky gloom offered a constant hope of salvation for the hedonistic souls below. Every night Gabriel gazed at his design he connected with his customers who wallowed beneath it and  got the never-ending kick out of his sacrilegious, glorified light fitting. 

Dean had frequented the club many times previous to knowing Gabriel, he’d even had a booth himself one very drunken night, although he could recall very little of what happened other than he went in there with a woman and left with a man and several bottles of champagne. He hadn’t been there for years though, so he had never seen Cas. And he would still not see Cas as the man had mentioned he refused to work friday or saturday nights because they were too hectic.

The stag’s men were buzzing from the drinks they’d finished at the earlier bar, they were filled with the tipsy openness which made best friends out of strangers. The music pulsed through their bodies and the bar shone through the dark, tempting them like helpless moths to a flame. 

They blindfolded the groom with the barman’s tie as another barman made up the club’s famous “Divorce-pending” cocktail and then presented it to the best man to pour it down the groom’s throat. 

Dean laughed with everyone else as the groom spluttered and gagged at the lethal concoction which Gabriel proclaimed was his own secret recipe on a plaque by the side of the bar. However his eyes soon started to drift to the stages and he stared at the other customer’s eyes which scanned the dancers bodies greedily. 

The main stage was reserved all night on weekends for the female strippers, but the side stages had shows with both men and women. Gabriel may be a jerk, but he completely believed in offering an array of desires, devoid of sexual preference or gender. He was no fool however, and security at Club Angels would have put a police station to shame. 

* * *

The night progressed in a dizzyingly, drunken dream until Dean found himself freezing, standing outside, repetitively ringing a buzzer to a flat.

“It’s two in the fucking morning. Who the fuck is this?” The crackly speaker by the buzzer did no justice to the deep, rumbling of Castiel’s voice, but the crankiness carried through well enough. Dean almost giggled at the disgruntled answer.  
“Dean” Dean said.  
“Dean?”  
“Yeah, you know, pole dancing extraordinaire, best-student-you’ve-ever-had-Dean”.  
“Yes Dean”, Cas sighed, “I grasped it was you when you said your name, although I wouldn’t describe you as such, more like a cocky little shit that’s woken me up at two in the fucking morning. What do you want”?  
“I- I just... wanted to talk to you”, even in his inebriated state it sounded stupid to him. 

Cas replied with a simple “oh”, and Dean got whiplash from the sudden change of Castiel’s tone in that single syllable, from annoyance to one of of a happy surprise. The buzzer went off loudly, signaling the door could be opened, and as Dean entered the building he heard a rather crackly and bemused sounding “come on up”.

“I was at a strip club tonight”  
“Good morning to you too Dean”  
“And I thought about you”  
“That’s flattering but you’re even worse at flirting when you’re drunk”  
“No what I mean was I thought about what you said, ages ago, about giving strippers more respect and I did. I think I did. I tried to not objectify them”. Dean grinned proudly at Cas like a toddler who had just used the potty correctly for the first time.  
“Gold star to you. And, may I ask, how did you go about ‘not objectifying’ them?”  
“Well I tried talking to them, tried to learn a bit more about them”, Dean swayed a little and Cas maneuvered them both to the couch. Dean continued with his tale, “Bluebell-"  
“Oh Monica, she’s wonderful, you know she can do a jumping exit from a 2-spin helicopter in five inch heels, stunning. Sorry, continue”,

“well she told me about how she was graduating this year, economics, and she doesn’t mind the job because it pays well and Gabriel keeps all the dancers safe. And we both agreed that you’re a really great teacher and a fucking awesome ass. And that it’s her sister’s birthday next week but she can’t decide what to get her so I suggested vodka because you can’t really go wrong with booze, but she said her sister’s turning fifteen. And then... and then Big Benny told me to quit pestering her and threw me out when I kicked up a fuss”. 

Cas brushed gentle fingers against Dean’s cheek where a bruise had been steadily forming throughout the conversation, Dean leaned into the touch before Cas could hastily pull his hand back. “Big Benny threw you out pretty hard. Did he throw you into the dumpster or something?” Dean stared at his feet guiltily, “didn’t get it from that”,

“then how...”,  
“You should know I was pretty wasted-”,  
“Yeah, Dean I got that”,  
“And I do stupid things when I’ve had a few drinks-”,  
“Don’t we all”.

Cas looked across at the off TV on the opposite wall but his mind was elsewhere, Dean longed to know the story that Cas was lost in. Cas almost blushed as he returned his full attention back to Dean, “Sorry, continue”.

“Yeah, so I tried to get back in the club, and I... em... I may have offered Big Benny a pole dance ok. Even started grinding against a coat rack, then he hit me”.

Castiel burst into laughter which was music to Dean’s ears, the smaller man’s body shook as he gripped at his sides and rocked back and forth on the couch. “He-Big Benny... he” Cas could hardly breath, never mind talk for laughter, “he hit you?” He managed to get out before the laughter bubbled out again. “But he’s so laid back, hardly anything gets him riled”. 

Dean rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “to be honest I think he did it to stop me from doing anything more embarrassing. I actually think he did me a favor”. Cas clutched at his sides again, tears streaming down his cheeks, “wow I sure owe him a drink. I’d have loved to have seen his face”. Dean had never seen Castiel laugh with such abandonment, and he stared in wonder at the man sitting next to him who had been undone by a story he had told. The hilarity was infectious and soon both men were howling with laughter and clutching at each other.

The merriment died down and the two men were leaning against each other, slumped agains the back of the sofa. Castiel was breathing steadily and Dean thought he was asleep so he laid his head to rest on top of Cas’s, enjoying the warmth they were sharing.

“Hey, Dean”, _shitshitshit I’ve fucked it all up,_ the Winchester stilled, fearing he’d gone too far, “how did you find out where I live?” 

Dean swallowed, calming his heart rate. “Maybe Big Benny didn’t just throw me out for talking to Bluebell, maybe the fact that I may have perhaps threatened, just a little bit, the owner of that fine establishment”. Dean winced as he said it, Gabriel may be an A grade jack ass, but he was also Castiel’s A grade jack ass brother, and if there was one thing on earth Dean understood, it was the bond between siblings. Dean could feel Cas nodding his head underneath his chin, a comfortingly warm friction so he continued with his story.

”Gabriel told Big Benny to put me in a cab and send me home, but I begged him not to send me home ‘cos Sammy’s there, and I didn’t want him to see me in this state, so he said you’d take me in. Said you’d be up, and I quote, ‘practicing your fellatio skills’, which I sincerely hope I did not interrupt”. Cas rolled his eyes and threw Dean the finger, “I am not even going to honor that with an answer. It’s hard to love Gabriel when you’re the butt of all his jokes all the time, believe me, but you do get used to him. You never know, you may even start to like him, you’re not that different”.

Dean sat up quickly, dislodging Cas from his side, the room swayed around him slightly as he said, “don’t you dare say that. I am nothing like him”. Castiel tilted his head at Dean, “you hardly know him Dean, you don’t know what he’s done for me-”

“Done for you”, the outrage was hot and fast and Dean wanted to shake his drunken sense into Castiel, “that asshole makes you dance for his club, it’s sick, twisted. He knows you don’t like it but he makes you do it anyway. You deserve so much more Cas, I would never do that to Sammy, no way. And I would never do that to you. We are nothing alike”. 

“But you are, Dean”, Cas sighed, “you are. Get comfortable, I’m going to tell you a bed time story”.

“My ex, he was a bad guy. In a gang and everything. The Garrison they were called. We were together and I was an honorary member... then we weren’t and I wasn’t so honorary”, a pained expression ghosted over Castiel’s face suggesting that was all he was willing to say on the subject of his ex. “But the gang weren’t done with me, they were looking for payment for some gambling I’d joined in with, and all the money my ex had showered over me. I was hunted, and alone. So I turned to Gabriel, I hadn’t seen him in years but I had no other choice, and he was wonderful, he took me in like the years apart never existed. I trust Gabriel filled you in on what happened at his club that night. I loved it, in that room, on my own, I was free to do as I pleased and I felt... sexy again, which after being dumped was exactly what I needed. Gabriel payed off some of my debts too, but I did not like that, I did not want to be such a burden... so I suggested dancing at his club but he refused.

At that time it was solely a heterosexual place, my brother had been trying for years to change that, but no strippers would take the risk and dance for him. It took a lot of persuasion, but eventually The Garrison made his mind up for him when they torched his car. Gabriel hired every security team he knew of, redesigned the stage to separate them more easily, and the rest is history. Within the first month I’d made enough from tips alone to fully pay off the gang and they’ve left me alone ever since”.

Cas stared anxiously at Dean, “I had no idea Cas, well, damnI feel like a fucking jerk”, he gave Cas a sad smile and locked eyes with him. _Now would be the perfect time to reach out and take his hand_ , Dean sat still, he rubbed the back of his neck and tore his eyes away to look at the floor, the moment lost to suddenly painful sobriety. “But if you don’t like it, why do you still work for him, and why is he so pissed you want to quit?” 

Cas tried to catch Dean’s eye again, but the Winchester kept his eyes darting to the floor. “I owe Gabriel so much, I feel an obligation. When we first paid off the gang completely he told me to stop. But back then I was stupid, I wanted more and I talked him round by talking to him in his own language, money. And that’s where we are now, he can’t afford to let me go. All I want to do is teach, I like helping people to push their capabilities, help them feel sexy again”,  
“Why is teaching not enough for Gabriel?”  
“Because I’m a damn good stripper as well as a great pole dancer, Dean, not that you appreciate it”  
“I do appreciate it, very much so. More than you think”. 

Dean hazarded to look into Castiel’s sharp, blue eyes again, “You should do the dance show”. 

Castiel shook his head, confused, “I’m sorry, what?”  
“Tell Gabriel that if you do the show, you get to stop stripping for him... eww that sounded weird, I hope you don’t strip for your brother”  
“No I don’t. And I’ve tried that tactic before, and here I am, still dancing at the club”. Both men stared off into the distance thoughtfully until Dean turned his head slowly to look at Cas, a sly grin on his lips, “I could join you for the show”. Cas stared at Dean with a weary look, “this is serious Dean”.  
“I am serious”, Dean protested, _what the fuck are you doing,_ “I know what I’m doing. Gabriel will love it, he’ll _have_ to agree to your terms”. Cas looked at Dean thoughtfully, Dean nudged Cas playfully with his elbow, leaned in and whispered, with with his lips fleetingly caressing Cas’s ear, “You don’t think you’ve got what it takes to whip me into shape?” 

Cas stood up suddenly, nearly knocking Dean to the floor, “I think you’re drunk and need to sleep it off, you can have the couch, I’ll get you some blankets”. Cas drifted off to another part of the flat in search of blankets for Dean, who sat on the couch kicking himself inside and feeling completely and distressingly sober. 

* * *

The morning after was heavy with awkwardness as Dean pretended to be more hungover than he really was, and Cas tried to ignore what had happened the night before. After a quick phone call to Sam to say he was safe and had spent the night at one of the guys from the stag party’s house, Dean finished the toast Cas had insisted on feeding him and stared at his coffee, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. The tension was too much to bear for Dean however, and the thought of Cas being unhappy was like a thorn constantly niggling at the side of his mind. “I was serious about last night Cas”. 

“No”.  
“I want to help you”.  
“Why?”

_Because you helped me. Because I’m fed up of always receiving the help. Because the thought of you being unhappy makes me sick. Because you made me fucking care about you, you son of a bitch._

“Just… because...ok”.

Cas sighed and took a bite from his own toast, “It will take a lot of work to get your skill levels up”,  
“You know I’m dedicated”,  
“What I say goes in the routine”,  
“You’re the boss”,  
“We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other”,  
“I thought you were trying put me off?” Cas rolled his eyes.   
“It will hurt”, the heaviness with which Cas said that left Dean wondering if the man had meant just physical pain or something more profound as well. Either way Dean’s answer was the same, “I know pain Cas, and you’ve helped me handle it before”.   
“So we’ll start tomorrow then?”  
“Oh it’s on”.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean flaunted the way his sweats now hung low on his hips and no longer bothered to stifle the thrill he got when he saw Cas’s eyes wander their way down his body. He refrained from tugging them up until the very last moment, delighting in teasing Cas all the while. 

But Castiel was no infatuated mess slobbering over every flash of skin, he remained in control as ever and punished Dean’s baiting by pushing him harder on the pole. It was a routine they both silently fell into without acknowledgement to each other, but the air crackled between them with stolen glances and an unspoken growing trust. 

After a particularly rigorous practice, they ended up leaning against the wall, side by side, arms and legs touching and sticking together with sweat. Both men were panting desperately, fighting to pull air into their aching lungs. Their breaths eventually evened out in sync and they both simultaneously leaned their heads in tiredly to meet, their temples touching and resting against each other. “Damn Cas, you trying to kill me?” Cas didn’t respond but the pull of skin at Dean’s temple told him Cas was smiling.  

Castiel peeled himself away from Dean and the wall, and then peeled the soaking black t shirt off himself. Dean allowed himself an eternity of a moment to appreciate the tan skin and the strong, glistening muscles beneath before he opened up the flood gates for the customary panic. _oh my god act cool you idiot. Don’t stare. Don’t fucking stare-_  
“Are you staring Dean?” Cas had turned his head and was grinning smugly at Dean’s gaping mouth. 

“Dean I want to show you something. Something that means a lot to me. And I want to share it with you because... well, because you mean a lot to me too. You may not know it, but you’ve helped me through a tough time too and I appreciate you helping me through The Show shit too”. There was no hesitation as Dean reached his hand out to grip Castiel’s in his, “Well, gee, thanks Cas. But don’t you be getting all emotional over me”, Dean gave Cas’s hand a quick squeeze and put on a charming smile, “you know I appreciate you too Cas. Now what you going to show me?” Castiel’s smug grin returned to his face, “just sit pretty, Princess, give me a moment to catch all my breath back”. 

####  **The Fallen Angel**

Castiel stood by the gleaming pole and shook his limbs gently to wake them up. Dean stared at him in awe as the man took long, calming breaths, and he felt privileged as if he was witnessing a God preparing to work magic that was not meant for human eyes.  

Castiel’s voice was spine-numbingly low as he said, “It’s my favourite position and it’s name is ‘The Fallen Angel’. I find it the most freeing”. Dean sat cross legged on the floor and leaned forward excitedly.

The man stepped towards the pole and stood very close to it, almost brushing his nose against the metal. He brought both hands up to grip it firmly just above his head. Dean’s throat dried as lithe back and arm muscles came into full view when Cas hoisted his legs up to cross over, bent at the knees, either side of the pole, gripping it between his thighs. Dean caught the man’s eye in the opposite mirror and blushed scarlet as Cas, with a smirk, had caught him checking out his ass. Castiel let out a low chuckle and, letting go of the pole with one hand, threw the red-faced man on the floor behind him the finger.  

“Pay attention”.

Holding the pole in both hands again Cas stretched his legs out straight, keeping the knees crossed and flexed one foot up to the ceiling and pointed one foot down to the floor. His legs were strong and stable as he slowly let his upper body fall away from the pole and loosened his grip. His legs rose into the air, bearing the weight of his upper body with ease, and his thighs effortlessly held him in place. 

With a small sigh Castiel released his finger tips from the pole and arched his back down to the floor, his whole upper body hanging down from the pole. He swung his hands slowly out to either side and down below his head, fingertips almost caressing the ground. An upside down jesus in blue sweats, with a slack happy face instead of one of pain and suffering. 

Dean stared in wonder, he’d never seen anything as beautiful as Castiel’s body in that pose, and his mouth salivated to lick up the sweat which ran in rivulets down Castiel’s chest and collected in the hollows of his neck. Dean raised himself slowly to his knees as Cas eased the pressure from his thighs and slipped slowly to the floor where he tumbled effortlessly from the pole and turned nimbly to end up kneeling in front of Dean, facing the stunned man.

Cas was panting, his eyes wide and expectant, trying to read what was going through Dean’s mind. Dean himself was trying to find out what was going on in his own mind which seemed to have frozen on the image of Cas in the Fallen Angel pose, face the perfect form of bliss. Their deep breaths mingled in the little distance between them. Dean’s brain rebooted itself enough for him to croak out a pathetic, “wow, that must make the guys go wild at the club”.

Cas’s voice was a hushed whisper as he replied, “I’ve never performed that at the club. I keep it for myself, I just wanted to keep something of mine from the dancing”. Cas looked down at himself sheepishly, but Dean understood him completely, some things just needed to be kept close to the heart.

Their hands were linked again but neither man knew how, they were so close that Dean could feel the heat radiating from Castiel’s chest. “You were beautiful”, Dean said, the awe evident in his voice, “so fucking beautiful”. There were thousands of words racing through his head to describe what he thought of Cas, but when he looked at the man kneeling enticingly shirtless in front of him, having, knowingly or not, just bared his soul to Dean, beautiful felt right. 

Like Cas had mentioned about Dean’s baby when the Winchester had shown Cas his beat up car, and so Dean saw it in Cas. The man was as broken as Dean was, _but if something’s broken, it just means it can be made even more beautiful with little a hard work and love. So. Fucking. Corny. Man up, Winchester._

_Yeah. Man up._

Dean lunged forward and suddenly Castiel’s chapped lips were making his own dry lips tingle at the slight friction, and they tasted deliciously salty from the sweat. Dean’s mind was lost and adrift on a sea of heady sensations his mouth was hastily discovering as he licked his tongue in to soften both their lips. Castiel’s reaction to Dean’s spontaneous kiss was immediate and just as desperate to Dean’s relief. Cas was sitting back on his heels as Dean’s impulsively ferocious kiss had pushed him back, but the Winchester felt Cas forcing himself forwards and he allowed himself to be nudged down to the floor.  

As Dean allowed himself to fall gently to the floor, his hands wandered over the burning skin of Castiel’s back and chest. His fingers slid further down to slip below the waist band of Cas’s sweats, Dean whined into the man’s mouth when he noticed the distinct lack of underwear. Dean angled his hips upwards, grinding his groin against Castiel’s thigh. 

They broke the kiss, panting for air, and Dean stared hungrily at Cas’s swollen lips as he murmured, “I’ve been thinking about that for so long”. Cas smiled and lowered his head to lick at the corner of Dean’s mouth as Dean continued speaking, “And you’ve no idea how much I tried not to think about you fucking me”. Cas nibbled at Dean’s earlobe and breathed, “That must have been very hard for you”. 

Dean could hear Cas quietly laughing at his own joke, so he ground his hips up into Castiel’s thigh again and enjoyed the way the laugh stuttered into a long whimpering moan. “Would you say the lesson’s over for the night Cas?” Castiel was already trying to negotiate standing up to get the studio ready to close up when he stopped and looked at Dean with a filthy grin, “Oh Dean, we’re just getting started”. 

* * *

The door to Castiel’s apartment burst open and it had hardly been shut before they were clinging to each other again. Stumbling to the bedroom they fell onto the bed, discarding their clothes in messy piles along the way. Cas was all bronzed muscles and burning skin beneath Dean whose tongue thirstily traced every contour. Their cocks brushed together, sliding heavily between both their stomachs, filling Dean with a frantic carnal _need_ for _more more more_. 

Dean felt himself be rolled onto his back and his legs were hoisted up onto Castiel’s shoulders as Cas’s tongue licked a strip up his cock. Whimpers erupted from Dean’s throat as Cas took Dean fully in his mouth and entered a single, slicked up finger into his hole at the same time.

Castiel’s mouth continued at an even pace, steadily stoking the furnace within Dean, and the obscene sounds Cas was producing down between his legs were the sweetest sounds Dean had ever heard. Dean stared blearily down the length of his body and met blue eyes staring right back, stormy with desire, the eyes flashed with a moment of smugness as Cas treated Dean to two fingers and immediately started scissoring them vigorously. The surprise forced Dean to throw his head back onto the bed and stare with a dazed look at the ceiling, mouth open in a silent scream. 

Castiel was impatiently slicking himself up before he even had three fingers in Dean, as soon as he did, Dean began to beg with a torrent of incomprehensible sounds of want. His finger nails clawed at Castiel’s shoulder, and he desperately missed the wet heat of his mouth on his cock, he needed more, _need to be filled._  

Dean was already a sweating and writhing wreck, but he laughed like a mad man as he looked at Cas who was carefully lining himself up with Dean’s hole, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat and breathing calmly, a look of serious concentration on his slightly flushed face. The Winchester dreamily looked up at the man leaning over him, he felt light headed and on top of the world, as he said with another manic laugh, “Cas, remember when you told me that it takes a lot more than a few grinds to tire you out?” Cas lifted his head to smile at Dean, but kept his cock teasing Dean’s hole, “Yes Dean, I remember”, Cas took Dean’s cock in an easy grip, stroked up agonisingly slowly and laughed wickedly at Dean’s choked whine, “and from the looks of you, a few grinds is all you can take”.

Dean gripped his shaking legs around Cas and rolled them both over on the bed so that Cas was the one with his back on the bed and Dean was sitting on the man’s lower stomach. He reached behind himself and grabbed hold of Castiel’s cock, he eased himself down onto it slowly, gradually getting used to the fullness and smiled with pleasure as he heard Castiel hiss out “holy shit”.  

Dean was ready to move and he could feel the twitching of Castiel’s dick inside him, eager for an even greater friction, but Dean held Cas’s hips in place with his thighs, savoring the way the man underneath him was falling apart at the how close they were to complete bliss. He held one of Cas’s hands in his own hand, fingers entwined, but the other he brought down to stroke along Castiel’s jaw. 

“Dean are you going to move any time soon?”

Eventually Dean’s own desire caught up with him like a cannon ball and he began rocking his hips back and forth frantically. Dean gazed down at Cas as the man lying on the bed punched out an exhale and his cheeks flushed deeper.

“fuck... Cas...”, Dean angled his hips just right, and pounded Cas for that sweet spot. 

“Dean... Dean...Dean...”, their rhythm was relentless.

The fire within Dean flared and his whole body was dazed by it’s brightness, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer when Cas started to rock his hips up in rhythm with Dean’s. Dean stared slack-jawed at the man laid out, squirming, before him, pouring with sweat and panting for his life, and it was Dean who was causing that, it was Dean’s name which slipped from his lips in a needy whisper, and Dean’s body his hands traced with a scorching trace and Dean could control himself no longer. 

He gave in and let the fire rip through his body as he reached his orgasm in a throat tearing moan, clenching around Cas. His heightened senses picked up a sharpness on his thigh where Cas had gripped his leg as, with a few more sharp upward thrusts, his own orgasm tore through him. Dean felt himself fill up further with Castiel’s cum and somewhere in his overwhelmed mind he managed to process the sound of his own name escaping from Cas’s lips in a scream.  

Exhausted and spent, the two men lay on the sticky bed breathing in each other. Dean was still sitting on top of Cas but his chest was pressed against Cas’s and his head was snuggled against the man’s throat. Cas was running fingers gently up and down Dean’s spine and sleepily nuzzling at Dean’s hair. “You got me to sweat Dean, I’m proud of you”, Dean sighed into Cas’s ear, “I can do better, just give me five minutes”. Cas let out a tired chuckle, “I bet you can”.

Dean rolled off of Cas to lay beside him, but shuffled in closer so the whole sides of their bodies were touching. He yawned, “just whenever you’ve got your breath back again Cas”, Dean yawned again, “I’m ready to go”. 

The soft snores of the man next to him reached his ears, he turned to gaze at Cas who was sleeping with a sweet smile on his face. Dean reached down to the floor groggily to collect the blankets and cover them both with them. Then he wrapped an arm around Castiel’s waist and settled himself to sleep.   

* * *

“OH SHIT”, Dean dropped his toast onto the plate and quickly dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. They were sitting eating breakfast in Castiel’s kitchen, “Dean what is it?” Cas asked with worry. “I didn’t tell Sam where I was, I didn’t even text him to let him know I was ok. He probably thinks I’ve had a break down again and went off to- hey, morning Sammy”. 

Cas squinted at Dean and cocked his head to the side, a smirk pulling at one side of his lips, “are you going to tell him about the two of us Dean?” Cas said so quietly Dean was certain Sam had heard it all the way at his house, never mind just over the phone. Dean put a finger to his lips and continued apologising to his brother for not calling earlier, figuring he’d say he crashed at the studio for the night, dedication to the dance and shit.

“What did I get up to last night? Oh you know, the usual routine stuff-”  
“Fucking your pole dancing instructor is a regular thing is it? Wow, sorry I hadn’t noticed before”. Dean held his hand over the mouthpiece and hissed,  
“Shut up Cas. What Sam? Yeah it went on pretty late, but I didn’t mind”,  
“Just tell him you didn’t mind because you enjoyed my dick”,  
“Jesus, shut up, huh? yeah Sam, yeah-”  
“Yeah you’re right Dean, that’s too vulgar. We’ll save that for when we tell Gabe. Just tell Sam that we are friendly in the generally non-platonic way”. Dean threw Cas the finger, and Cas had to bite down on his knuckles to keep his laughter at bay.

“hmm, what was that Sam... where I spent the night... well”, Dean caught Castiel’s eye, the blue ones were filled with a sudden seriousness as the teasing fled away. Cas refilled both their coffee mugs, tearing his eyes away from Dean’s sadly. 

Dean squared his shoulders and took in a deep breath, that feeling of staring out over an edge into an abyss returned, but he grabbed hold of Castiel’s hand and felt comfort in the returned grip. “I spent the night with Cas, Sam”.

Cas smiled at Dean, his eyes shimmering with happiness, Dean laughed at something Sam said, “Practicing all night? Well yeah, I guess you could say we were practicing _all_ night”, Dean winked at Cas. “Sammy, you don’t want to know”, Dean let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes, “and the penny drops”. 

Cas let out a deep, throaty laugh as Dean mimicked his brother’s over-the-top reaction to finding out his older brother had spent the night having sex with Castiel, he mouthed “oh my god” and ran his hands through fictitious long hair. “Ok Sammy, enough, that’s enough”, Dean said when Castiel was bent double, tears of laughter streaming down his cheeks. “Yeah Sam, we’re good”, Cas gripped Dean’s hand tighter in his, “I know you are Sammy, thanks. I’ll see you later”. 

Cas reached with his other hand across the counter and rested it lightly against Dean’s cheek as the Winchester hung up on the phone call. Cas’s lips followed his hand across the counter, and brushed onto Dean’s lips a “thank you”. 


	6. Chapter 6

Cas stared unimpressed as Dean put his own music into the docking station and let his choice of songs roar from the speakers. Dean danced up and down like a child in a candy shop, unable to choose which delight he would play next and adamantly ignored Castiel’s bored looking stare. “This one’s great, you’re gonna love this one”, the hard beat of Warrant’s ‘Cherry Pie’ started and Dean nudged into Cas with his hips, breaking the weary facade as Cas’s face softened into a smile. Dean snaked his arms around the man’s waist, who still had his arms crossed over his chest, and squeezed him in close, singing along to the song in his ear.

Their mouths met and Dean bit gently on Cas’s lower lip, then hummed the beat onto Cas’s tongue, his leg sliding easily between Castiel’s. Cas released his hands from between their chests, so they could press as close together as possible, and raised his hands to card through Dean’s hair. Then Cas lowered his hands down Dean’s back and slipped them under the shirt, as Dean sucked gently at his neck and his thumbs rubbed circles into Castiel’s hip bones.

Fingers slipped nimbly beneath the waistband of Dean’s sweats and he was happy he’d taken Castiel’s advice and decided to give up on the underwear. Cas seemed to appreciate it too as one hand circled around Dean’s hip to rest teasingly just above the course hair at his groin.

The music changed to the next song, but Dean was too preoccupied to care what song had started to play. His whole world revolved around the searching hand Cas had down the front of his sweats.

Dean whimpered when Cas didn’t move his hand again, _just a little lower, come on man,_ he desperately tried to grind his hip upwards but Cas removed his hand from Dean’s sweats altogether. “What the actual fuck Cas?”  
“Sssh”  
“But Cas-”  
“Sssh, let me hear this song. What is it?”  
“It’s Thunderstruck, by AC/DC. You like it?”  
“Dean, I think we’ve found the song, it’s sexy, it has a good beat. Yes I like it very much. Thank you for showing me”. Dean smiled, “no problem Cas”, the Winchester looped his hand around Castiel’s waist, “hey Cas, you think we should celebrate this moment”. 

Dean looked down at Cas and gave him a dazzling smile, but Cas pushed him away distractedly, “sorry Dean, no time. I’ve got to go choreograph this fucker now-”  
“But Cas...”, Dean hated the whine that escaped in his voice but it got Castiel’s attention.  
“But Dean...”, Cas mocked jokingly, “the show is in less than two weeks, and you’re not the only performer I’ve got to help out. Just give me until after the show, then we can barricade ourselves in the bedroom until one of us dies or we run out of food. Please Dean”.   
A sulky pout made it’s way to Dean’s face but he nodded in agreement with Cas, “don’t know how I’m going to perform this thing with blue balls though”, Dean muttered moodily.   
“I’ll get you some blue short-shorts for your costume, don’t worry”, Cas replied with a wink.

* * *

Sam wolfed down their final slice of pizza then leaned back on the couch, patiently waiting for his brother to initiate any conversation, and for once Dean didn’t disappoint, “Do you trust Gabriel?” Sam choked down a laugh with his mouthful of pizza, “No, not at all. But I do trust him with Cas”. Dean’s eyes widened as Sam answered the question which Dean had been too self conscious to ask.   
“You want to come to this show I’m doing with Cas, Sam?”  
“You’re asking me if I want to go watch my brother strip, on a stage with the guy he’s sleeping with?”  
“Dude, we’re not going to be naked, just showing off our hot-ass moves in clothes which accentuate our God-like bodies. Besides it was all your idea in the first place. Are you coming or not?”  
“I wouldn’t miss it”, Sam grinned.  
“No filming it, I’m serious”,  
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Hey Dean you still hungry? We should go get some pie”.  
“You’re an awesome brother Sammy”.  
“Yeah I know”.

* * *

The practices weren’t anymore intimate than they had been before that night they’d spent together. Perhaps the touches were more prolonged, the glances more meaningful, but Cas had been right, there was no time for fooling around, _or screwing around, the teasing little shit_. All their efforts went into perfecting the choreography that Cas had lovingly created. They would be on stage at the same time, and although Dean’s moves were slightly simpler than Castiel’s, they complemented each other in bewitching twists and turns. The simpler choreography did not by any means allow Dean to slack and Castiel drove him relentlessly onwards, pushing him to chase that perfection which was just within their grasp.

“Again-”  
“Cas I-”  
“Again”.

Dean no longer knew where the pole ended and he began, it was like he was making love to the metallic pole and had been his whole life. All he knew was the movement of his body, the balancing of his weight in relation to his positioning. After one particularly dizzying and enthusiastic session Dean felt it would only be appropriate if he took the pole out for dinner some night. 

Every so often the butterflies which floated in his stomach every time he was with Cas would be drowned in a storm of self doubt. The relapse into the darkness was always sudden and crippling and left his muscles tight and deep gouges in his brow as he fought furiously with himself to contain his fear of failure. But Cas would be by his side immediately, all the stern lines of the task master gone, leaving only a soft voice whispering support in Dean’s ear and warm hands caressing his face. That was all the Winchester needed to blow the storm back to where he always kept it hidden and bring the fluttering butterflies out again.

Dean lay sprawled on the floor of the studio. He couldn’t move his lead-like arms or his legs and he was finding it difficult making his chest rise and fall just to breath. He inched his head to the right and let his cheek rest on the cool floor of the studio. Next to him, Castiel was as equally spread out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with glazed eyes, Dean’s eyes raked over the man by his side, and his mind was struck by how lucky he’d been to end up there, in that exact moment, with such a guy, and not in a hole in the ground. A slow, easy smile spread over Castiel’s lips at Dean’s attention, but his eyes remained staring at the ceiling. Cas gingerly sat up, wincing a little at the pain in his muscles, Dean could barely even blink without waves of pain rushing through his body. 

Dean struggled to work his tongue around words and slurred out, “Cas, wh... you... d’ng?” Cas moved himself slowly to lay between Dean’s legs and said into the fabric covering Dean’s groin, “sshhh, you talk too much”. 

Dean clamped his mouth shut, and whimpered at the effort it had taken to move his face muscles, as Cas struggled to pull Dean’s sweats down past his thighs, a look of determination on his face. Eventually Cas decided the sweats were sufficiently far enough down, and Dean was sufficiently intrigued as he took Dean’s rapidly hardening cock in his hand. Dean was grateful that it was one muscle which didn’t seem to be throbbing with agony but with pure want.  

Cas swallowed Dean down like a parched man discovering a freshly flowing mountain spring, all slobbery and desperate, and the way Cas ground his hips against the floor showed Dean that he hadn’t been the only one affected by lack of sex. 

After the initial onslaught Cas managed to calm himself down and began to work at Dean with a bobbing of his head and a constant suction. The bliss ripped through his aching body and began to ease the pain as a numbing warmth spread through him. Dean didn’t even have the energy to rock his hips upwards or even tangle his fingers in Castiel’s hair. A startled, “Cas!” was all the warning that Cas got before he was swallowing down Dean’s cum. Cas was still desperately grinding against the floor trying to chase his own release as Dean somehow managed to pull him up, his high lending him new energy, and took Cas’s cheeks in his hands and put his lips to the smaller mans deliciously swollen lips.  He tasted himself in Castiel’s mouth, and if it didn’t hurt so much to even breath, it might have pushed him over the edge again. 

Dean plunged his hand down Castiel’s sweats and stroked his throbbing cock. A few twists of his firm hand was all it took for Cas to grip tightly at Dean’s top and stifle a moan into Dean’s shoulder as Dean coaxed him through his orgasm.

They lay sticky and sweaty and tired, clinging onto each other, neither willing to move. It was eventually Dean who groaned loudly as he moved to stand up. “Come on Cas, we’ve gotta clean up and get home to rest. Big day tomorrow”. Cas nodded but made no other movement. Dean sighed, “I’m sure you’d just love it if Gabriel walked in on you with your pants down... literally down”, Cas moaned but got up begrudgingly, then he started sighing sadly at the poles every so often as he helped Dean close up the studio.

####  **The Show**

The club was buzzing with hundreds of people taking up every single space available and the bar was a constant flowing and ebbing tide of cheery, drunken humanity. Gabriel’s yearly show could almost have been called family friendly entertainment, a spectacle that even kids would have enjoyed, had it not been for the scantily clad men and women and the very air which was saturated with an array of spirits. 

The Show was a ticketed event and more of an exhibition of dancing talent than removing-of-clothes talent, so the crowd was full of men, women, couples, groups of friends and any hard-core regulars who didn’t mind the extra crowding and an extra layer of clothing on the dancers. 

They weren’t short shorts, but they were pretty damn close, too close for Dean’s liking, and he pouted when Cas took them out of his costume bag. Cas wore them with a confidence which suggested he’d be just as happy to cut them even shorter. The shorts were not blue as Cas had threatened, but black with red lightning bolts made from glitter glue and sequins running down each side, not that there was a lot of space for the lightening bolts to run down. Dean pulled at the bottom seams agitatedly but stopped at a scowl from Cas. He was thankful for the plain black vest tops they were wearing. “Dean you look hot as hell, stop being so self-conscious”.  
“Can’t help it. Not used to these sorts of clothes... or fabrics. I mean lycra, seriously?”  
“Yes, for comfort”,  
“You’re just happy because you can make lycra look good”. Cas put his hand on his hip, which he popped out to the side, and turned his head to look wistfully past Dean’s right shoulder and growled, “I do, don’t I”.

Dean could hear Gabriel on the stage seducing his audience with great enthusiasm and a natural, showman flair in between the acts. Eventually it was time for Dean and Cas to receive the attention of Gabriel’s glowing announcements. Dean’s mind was buzzing so hard that he missed Gabriel’s promises and declarations of how his next couple of dancers were the best yet, and the audience were really in for a treat. Gabriel exited the stage the and gave Cas and Dean a cheesy thumbs up from the opposite wing. He had left the audience riled up with energy and screaming with anticipation, Dean could have puked. 

The quiet, frantic guitar notes of the beginning of AC/DC’s ‘Thunderstruck’ snuck it’s way through the constant roar of the audience from golden speakers surrounding the main stage. From behind the curtain, Dean felt his stomach do a million flips, _I’m not ready_. 

Castiel’s usually calming presence only heightened the nerves as Dean started to lose his mind at the thought of fucking up and failing the man standing calmly beside him, making a fool of not just himself but Cas too. A clammy hand clasped Dean’s equally clammy hand and without looking at Cas, Dean smiled , he obviously wasn’t the only nervous one. Cas leaned in and brushed Dean’s ear with his lips, whispering, “I have faith in you, Dean Winchester”. Then Castiel strode confidently out in to the roar of the stage before Dean could respond with his normal self-depreciation. 

Dean kicked his mind into gear and followed Cas onto the stage and into the shared spotlight, finding strength in the fact he was doing The Show to help Cas. The lights were hot and blinding and when Dean looked out at the audience all he saw was a heavy and pulsing abyss of darkness, no faces, he smiled weakly at the relief. 

The first call of “thunder” boomed out of the speakers and both men swung into action. Dean’s first move was a simple Fireman spin, the first move he’d ever learned and it seemed apt that Castiel had chosen for that to be Dean’s first move of The Show. He spun out of The Fireman and elegantly transitioned into the next move, and then the next, the whole dance blurring together in rapid positions and spins and transitions. The beat of the music pulsed through the pole and through Dean’s arms and into the rest of his body as he kept in perfect sync with Cas and with the music.

Dean was floating on such a high he could almost have started to sing along with the song, but his mind was too focused on not getting a single step wrong. However during a lull in the dancing he risked a glance at Cas and he couldn’t help but smile wide-eyed at the man flying on the pole next to him because Cas was singing energetically, face bright and happy.

Every placement of his body was perfect, every twist and turn was performed expertly with a huge grin that he couldn’t wipe from his face. The audience were long forgotten and in Dean’s mind he was performing for one man only and every nuance of his own he added to the choreography was a loving homage for Cas. 

Far too soon the guitar notes began to slow and fade, and the final beat struck with a resounding kick and the men nailed their final position of standing center stage off the poles with their arms raised to the roof. The cheering had been building since long before the song had stopped, and the lack of music was more than made up for with the wall of applause and whooping and wolf-whistles which erupted from the adoring audience. 

Castiel had to lead Dean away from the pole and to the front of the stage for a bow because his brain was too dumbstruck by the people’s reactions. From near the back, and to the left of the stage Dean could hear a loud chant taking off, and it sounded oddly like his name. 

Sam’s trumpet of a voice drowned out all others as he hollered out over everyone else’s heads, “DEAN! DEAN! DEAN!”. A group of maybe fifteen or twenty men and women were all chanting his name too, and Dean recognised them as most of the people he worked with at the garage. 

Dean’s blood turned to ice, but he sucked in a shaky breath tried to put a smile back on his face as Cas nudged him inconspicuously in the ribs for him to take his bow. _Son of a bitch invited all those guys, I’m never going to live this down_.

Cas practically had to drag Dean off the stage and away from his adoring fans, but Dean didn’t want to leave the fairytale safety of the stage, he didn’t want to have to face Sam and his entourage. 

“Dean you were incredible, better than I’d even imagined. You were fucking amazing out there”, Dean mustered up a smile to give Cas, trying desperately not to let any fear show, but Cas hesitated in his flow of compliments, concern crumpling his victorious smile. They made their way silently to a quiet corner back stage to get out of their costumes and into their normal, but not any more comfortable Dean begrudgingly conceded, clothes. _Maybe they’ll let me keep the shorts_ , Dean thought, trying to catch Castiel’s eye to share the idea but Cas still had a worried look in his brow.

When they were both dressed Dean rubbed his hands up and down Cas’s arms, and bent his knees trying to look Cas in the eyes and get him to lift his head, “sorry Cas, but, I saw people I know out there. People I work with, and it kind of freaked me the fuck out”. Cas looked up at Dean and smiled, “oh that’s why they were calling your name, I thought they were just some of your regular customers here”, the smile on Cas’s lips transformed into a heady grin, “don’t worry about it Dean, they loved it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of”.

Cas leaned into Dean and planted his mouth on the taller man’s lips, which Dean gladly opened for him. Dean lifted his hands to cup Castiel’s face as the other man’s hands teasingly played with the bottom of Dean’s shirt.

“I bet people would pay good money to watch this. Why don’t you boys take this somewhere more private like the stage”.  
“Piss off Gabriel”, Dean managed to say, hardly breaking the kissing momentum he and Cas were working on.  
“Well ok, but I thought I’d let your fans in to see you, seems like they’re getting more than they bargained for”.

Dean and Cas broke away from each other like their lips electrocuted them, and turned to show terrified faces to Dean’s brother and workmates. A few of the men looked stupefied at Dean and Castiel, but Sam ran up to them both and enveloped them in his long arms in a tight hug. This motivated the rest of the group to run up and congratulate the pole dancers, all Dean’s shame melted away with the warm enthusiasm and support he and Cas received.

As he looked around, over his brother’s shoulder as Sam reached down for another hug, Dean saw Gabriel leaning by the curtain that led to the stage. Gabriel was staring out at the stage, but he didn’t seem to be looking at the current performer, his eyes held a melancholy wistfulness. Dean’s penetrating stare caught his attention and he turned his head sharply to look straight into Dean’s eyes. Gabriel nodded his head, then moved his eyes to look briefly at Cas and with a genuine smile at the man looked back to Dean, nodded his head again, then left to perform to his audience. 

Dean had succeeded, Castiel was free to never strip again, ever, except for in Dean’s, and only in Dean’s presence, of course. Although something in the way Gabriel had smiled at Cas told Dean that he could never have failed Gabriel’s brother, even if he’d gone out on stage and recited poetry _he’s not all that bad for an asshole_.

The group slowly lessened until there was only Sam, Dean and Castiel huddled in a corner of the dressing room, surrounded by animatedly yelling strippers. Dean kept grinning at his brother whose eyes kept getting wider and wider at the sights before him. “Let’s get the hell out of here”, Dean laughed as a woman in a bustier asked Sam to choose which of her G-strings looked the prettiest, “before Sammy ends up on stage too”.   
“uh huh”, Sam replied dumbly as his cheeks flushed.

The air was wonderfully cool on their skin and Dean thought even the rank, foul stink from the trash outside smelled extra sweet that night as he took Cas’s hand in his. He looked at Cas, then flitted his eyes to his brother, then back to Cas with a pleading stare. Cas nodded in response to their silent conversation. 

“Hey Sammy, want to come back to mine for some beers, we can get a pizza in and stick a couple of films on”. Sam stopped walking, then turned slowly to look perplexed at his brother and Cas, “yeah, Dean, I’d love that, but don’t you and Cas, you know... want to go...”, Sam blushed as he lamely pointed a finger repeatedly between the two men. Cas coughed then said delicately, “Celebrate I think is the word you’re struggling for Sam”.  
“Yeah, celebrate, that. Thanks Cas. It’s ok, I don’t mind”. 

Dean was glad Sam didn’t mind, and he really did want to ‘celebrate’ with Cas, what he really, really wanted was Cas to be fucking his brains out right at that moment. But it could wait. As he put an arm up on his brothers shoulder he said, “But I want to spend tonight sharing a beer  and a laugh with my brother and my-” Dean hesitated, _what the fuck is he,_ “my pole-dancing instructor-”  
“oh how romantic”, Cas deadpanned and Dean threw him the finger, “what do you say Sammy, come celebrate with us”,  
“ew Dean, celebrate, really? Poor choice of words”,  
“Are you joining us or not”, Sam looked thoughtful for a moment, then said,  
“Yeah I can definitely share a beer with my brother and his _boyfriend_ ”,  
“Bitch”.  
“Jerk”.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, just a little epilogue. I've enjoyed writing this fic so much, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. Thank you. x

Dean ran his hand over the smooth, shining black paint of the Impala, the hairs on his arms stood up at the sensation and his palm tingled. _Soon Baby, soon,_ he thought and ducked back under the hood of the car. He heard a rustle by the open garage door and an intake of breath which brought a smile to his face. Dean made a couple more tweaks to the engine before wiping his hands on a rag and turned to face the man walking towards him. 

“How was tonight’s lesson?” Dean asked, as Cas searched for a non-oily patch of skin on Dean’s face to kiss. Cas’s eyes turned back to the car, drinking it all in.   
“Really good, some of them will soon be teaching me some moves. How was work?”  
“Pretty hectic, but they let me go early, to let me work on my girl”, Dean grinned down at his car then wiped his face clean with a slightly less oily rag.

Cas smiled warmly, “how is she?” Dean walked around to the passenger side door and opened it with a flourish of his hand and a slight bow of the head, Cas took the hint, and with a great ceremony took his place in shotgun. Dean closed the door carefully, then walked round to tenderly lower the hood of the car and gave the pristine top surface a friendly pat. 

“We made it Baby”, Dean whispered, he lifted his eyes to meet Cas’s through the windshield and felt an overwhelming rush of happiness. Dean practically skipped around to the drivers side door and hopped into his seat. 

The two men stared at each other, both sets of eyes dancing excitedly with anticipation, as Dean reached down to turn the key in the ignition. The engine roared, and Dean had never heard a more beautiful sound that had not come from Cas’s lips Both their spines had ghostly shivers running down them at the spark of life in the car and the rumble of the engine. As the roar simmered down to a purr both men let out their relief in nervous laughter.

“It’s a beautiful night Cas, can I take you for a ride? Maybe make out with you? Maybe fall a bit in love with you?”, Cas laid his hand gently on Dean’s leg, “I would like that very much Dean”.

Dean slowly eased the car out of the garage and into the quiet darkness of the street. Both the Impala’s passengers gazed happily at the invitingly empty road before them.  


End file.
